Tumbling Down
by RukiaRae
Summary: [For Bjorkubus's challenge] To Tumble: to fall helplessly down, end over end. Kid Flash thought she was boring. Excruciatingly so. How does a simple game of chess manage to make him change the way he sees her and tempt him to learn more about the dark sorceress? Besides, it can't hurt to explore, can it? see how deep the rabbit hole goes? Raven sure thinks so.. Rae/KF seven themes
1. Chess

**For Bjorkubus's challenge, despite it being issued in 2006. I'm going to do a chaptered story each centred around one of the themes provided in the challenge. Hope you all enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans.**

_**Chess**_

It all started with a game of chess. Well, for him it did, anyway.

He, being descended from a long line of speedsters, did everything quickly. It was his nature, like breathing. He could travel the world in an instant, marvelling at all of the sights of the world faster than it took most people to arrive at even one. He, in fact, prided himself on the fact that he was well travelled and had seen pretty much everything worth seeing.

Of course, it wasn't really that interesting to stand and look at inanimate objects. You saw it and then, well, that was it. Like the Mona Lisa, even though everyone had made a big deal about it, he thought it was nothing spectacular. Okay, so it was a famous painting of a mysterious woman smiling. Great. Check.

That was, in a nutshell, his main problem. He always needed to be doing _something_. He was restless. As such, he was an incredibly social and outgoing individual-using people and conversation to entertain him when he wasn't busy running, eating or going on missions.

Perhaps that's why he neglected to notice her at first. She was silent and rarely spoke more than a few choice words to anyone. Talking to her was like trying to talk to a rock. A rock with a penchant for being insulting and sarcastic. Not to mention, he'd thought she was quite boring. Who else could sit, legs tucked into the lotus position, hovering for hours outside chanting the same mantra over and over? Not to be rude but, well, he'd much rather jump off a cliff. He couldn't think of anything more excruciating (except maybe reading one of her thick, dusty tomes—the minuscule font size of those alone was enough to give him a nasty headache).

He knew she wasn't stupid but...well...she was just slow. And that made her boring. Something to acknowledge, say hi to, and move on.

He remembered that day where, in a proverbial flash of lightning, he finally saw her. Truly _noticed _her. It took an accident with a game of chess to hit him over the head and make him realise how slow _he_ had been.

He remembered it clearly. She sat behind their purple sofa, levitating in front of the board with her head cocked slightly to the side as she contemplated her next move. Robin sat across from her on one of their barstools with his gloved hand stroking his chin as he did the same. One of her slender hands was hovering over a particular piece as she decided whether to move it or not.

He'd seen them playing chess and had decided that it was nothing spectacular. They played chess more often as of late since crime was at an all-time low in Jump. Quickly making a sandwich, he dashed out of the room eager to find something fun to do. He had no idea how much time had passed (after all, he never bothered to keep track of time anymore—it was something he never lacked), however, it must have been considerable because the black-and-white battlefield was a mess of pieces—nothing was close to where they had started on their respective sidelines.

It was to this scene that he came barreling in, running at top speed away from some mayhem he'd caused. He no longer could remember just what he was running from (Jinx, probably...they rarely got along despite his best efforts), though he _did_ remember the glares he'd received from the birds as their game (which they had been playing for a better part of the afternoon) had gone sprawling—a victim of his carelessness.

Robin groaned, running a hand through his perfectly spiked hair as he looked over the pieces that littered the floor. Unfortunately for them, they had neglected to write down their moves.

Rolling her violet eyes at her distraught leader and chanting her usual incantation, the board righted itself as though the incident had never occurred. Both boys eyed the sorceress with incredulity and Kid Flash was fairly certain his jaw had dropped open at the display.

She looked at them wearily, "What? I analyse the whole board."

Robin frowned, "That bishop wasn't on that square."

She gave him a small, amused smile, "That's my move, Blunder Boy."

"Oh," he replied, surprised, still examining the pieces for anything out of place.

After a few moments, he conceded that she had managed to get them back to the correct point. It was this admission, that she had made absolutely no mistakes, that made Wally realise that he, for all of his pride at seeing the world, had still somehow managed to overlook much of what was in front if him.

Yet she, the one he considered glacial, was able to put back their game perfectly in a matter of seconds. Her stillness and concentration allowed her to notice her surroundings in minute detail. Needless to say, he was impressed.

Because of this incident, he, for some reason, felt compelled to stay and watch the rest of their game. He decided he would act as though he were playing. Looking at the pieces, he tried to anticipate their moves...and failed miserably. Thinking ahead was never a strong point for him, however, it clearly was for her. Her arm gracefully fluttered over different pieces as she analysed all possible outcomes to her actions. She was logical.

He wasn't surprised when she won.

And sometime while watching her, another epiphany hit him: everything about her was deliberate. Methodical. It was like a piece of machinery—exact and flawless. It was beautiful (in an odd way) to behold someone so perfect. In that instant, she had humbled him. Maybe he needed to slow down sometimes to really see and admire what was there.

That day, he realised, he could have overlooked the most interesting Titan if not for an accident and a game of chess.

* * *

**I know there's not too much dialogue but I wanted to introduce the idea first—to give some background on Rae/KF's changing relationship. It seemed fitting to start before they were really friends and go from there. Hope it wasn't too boring.**

**Please review—makes my day!~**

**~RR**


	2. Roses

**The one thing I love about exams is how the need to feel productive just gives my muse so much inspiration to create something. Like this chapter.**

**Thanks to everyone who favourited and reviewed and all that! Didn't expect that kind of response for this small project! :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Casablanca either...**

**And now, theme two!**

* * *

**Roses**

"It was totally the roses, wasn't it?" He asked, shoulders slumping uncharacteristically as he went over each detail he may have missed—_messed up_—over the course of their tumultuous relationship.

"I beg your pardon?" She asked, pulled from her book by the swirling vortex of despair sitting next to her.

"It was the roses. I bet it was. They're generic."

She raised a brow, "You can't be serious."

(The measured look he gave her indicated that he was, in fact, serious.)

"Do you honestly think that things didn't work out with Jinx...because of the _type of flowers_ you gave her?"

"It sounds stupid when you put it like that."

"It would sound stupid no matter how I put it. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that Jinx did not break up with you over roses."

After a pause, she added, "In fact, aren't they what made her switch sides in the first place...The roses and the attention?"

"So...I should have given her more roses?"

"Or more attention."

"But I gave her attention."

"When you were causing mayhem? Or running around the world to buy her food?" She asked.

He glared, "When did I ask for you to psychoanalyse my relationship?"

"I know you mean well but you're one of the most ADD people I know." She explained, continuing her previous thread of analysis.

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning you tend to rush things. Your attention is always shifting to something new. No one can seem to keep up with you."

He grunted, "I like the roses explanation better."

"Oh. I didn't realise you pegging the failure of your relationship on roses was a way to absolve you of really figuring out why it went wrong. My mistake."

(Harsh.)

Gods, why couldn't she be nicer? Okay he was being surly and childish but he _was_ in a tough situation. She didn't need to always be so hard on him.

It didn't help that she nearly choked when looking up into the glare he was giving her. It was unsettling—_it struck at her very core_—his electric blue eyes seemed to illuminate from the heat of his angry stare. She wished that she hadn't said anything to provoke him. To get that intense _look_.

(Though everything he did was intense.)

(It still didn't fail to catch her off guard sometimes. Like now.)

"What would _you_ know about it, anyway?" He huffed—_breaking their stares, the moment_—and sinking further into the couch.

The comment was designed to sting, she knew. She knew that he was only lashing out—to hit her weak spots so she felt as broken as he did. Still, this knowledge didn't keep her from feeling hurt surfacing. Her lack of romantic experience wasn't entirely a secret (though the details were, at least, largely unknown by those who weren't members of Titans West) and he'd hit a vulnerability of hers. One that she generally liked to keep buried.

Still, she wouldn't let it faze her. She had practice controlling her emotions and, not to mention, it wasn't the first (nor would it be the last) time that someone would bring it up.

"Yes. Let's disregard the analysis of an empath when it comes to emotions. Smart idea," she drawled, amused when he flinched at the word empath.

If that were any indication, he'd briefly forgotten.

(How was it that so many people quickly forgot about her main ability?)

She stood up, gathering her book and using her energy to fold the worn, cream coloured afghan she'd been curled under.

"So...it was my fault? For not paying attention?"

She stopped mid-stride. The door was so close—beckoning her to walk through it and pretend this had never occurred. But she wouldn't—_couldn't_—leave her friend like this. Turning, she sighed.

"It's not that simple. It's no one's 'fault'. But if you were trying to think of what you could've changed—which it seems to me you were—paying more attention to her romantically seems like a decent explanation."

"What could she have improved?"

Raven rarely smiled but, at this comment, her lips tugged up a bit. It could only be classified as a half-smile, really. Or even less than that.

(Did she even know how to smile properly?)

"Communicated better about what she wanted, perhaps. Or adjusted her expectations."

He looked at her as though she had sprouted another head.

"...Adjusted..._adjusted her expectations_?" He sputtered.

The corners of her mouth tugged up further at his antics. Still, it didn't quite make smile status.

"Well, yes. She knew what you were like. You can't expect someone to change completely for you. Sometimes...you adjust...Make room so that one person isn't completely changing—or losing—themselves."

She paused, letting him take her words in, "In fact, if both of you made a few changes, it could've worked."

"_What_?"

"That's what any relationship—friendship or more—is. Interaction. Give and take. Understanding your counterpart and, sometimes, making a few concessions." She looked at his profile, watched his brows furrow as he dissected her words—pulling them apart and trying to fit them into his relationship—_could it really be that simple? _he thought.

"But I have lots of friends. I _know_ how to interact with people."

"I know, you don't need to convince me of that. That doesn't mean you know how to interact with all types of people. People are hardly generic. Perhaps you were too different. Perhaps you both weren't ready to change that much to accommodate another so different," she offered with a small shrug.

He looked at her thoughtfully, his eyes clouding as he reviewed his past relationship with a new perspective. "You may be right."

She snorted, "It's certainly a better explanation than _roses_. Still, I wasn't in the relationship. I can't evaluate it the way you can. My advice is just to...be as realistic as possible. You gain nothing by idealising the relationship. Don't lie to yourself—you do that and there's no one you can trust in this world."

"Thanks," he choked, his voice thin and stretched. She could tell this would be a painful process for the usually cheerful guy.

She nodded, "If you ever need to talk, well, I rarely leave the tower."

He smiled and although it was pained and cracked, it was still a smile.

(He'd be alright, in the end. He was stronger than he seemed.)

"You're wrong about one thing though," he stated, his stormy, clouded eyes catching hers.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" She asked, swallowing the lump in her throat. His unfocused gaze troubled her—like she'd just forced him to witness a massacre of his best memories.

(Which she probably did.)

"Even if I try to lie to myself, I still have one person in this world who I can trust to be honest." She felt her heart crack at the bark of mirthless laughter that followed his comment.

"Would you want me to lie? Tell you it was the roses?"

His gaze shifted to the window, regarding the cloudless baby blue sky with a strange hollow feeling. The day wasn't right—_wasn't gloomy enough_—it didn't reflect how he felt.

"No, I suppose I wouldn't want that."

"There you go," she said, her voice almost accusatory, as though she were defending her honesty.

After a pause, she added.

"If you don't want the truth, then don't speak to me." This time her voice was defensive and—_sad? remorseful?—_as she tried to rationalise her comments.

(To who? Herself?)

"I'll keep that in mind."

She nodded, turning to leave. _Again._

"Wait," he called, sensing that the conversation had not gone the way either of them had imagined.

"Yes?" She asked.

"Please don't go. Not yet."

He wanted to add _I didn't mean for it to go like this. I really do appreciate your help. _But in the end, he decided against it.

(It's the thought that counted, anyway.)

She returned to her previous place she'd been sitting, shifting as she tried to find the _right way_ to sit—_the indent her curled body had made still had to be there_—but it was no use. The couch had righted itself during their short exchange, it seemed. She sighed, giving up on figuring out how she had been curled so comfortably and, instead, sat up.

Seeing her finally situated and still, he asked, "So where are the others?"

"Sick of talking to me already?"

"What? N-no...I just meant..."

Then he saw it...the sparkle in her eyes.

She was joking.

He scowled, "That's not funny."

"I beg to differ."

He crossed his arms to show her that, _yes,_ he was still annoyed.

"Beast Brat and Cyborg are at a comic book convention for the day. Robin and Star are on a date."

He tilted his head, not understanding where her comment was coming from before remembering that she was answering his question. Christ, he really was kind of—_really—_ADD.

(All he said though was "Oh.")

"So it's just me for the day."

"You wanna grab lunch?" He asked quickly. As though if he didn't get the words out _right then _that they would never come out.

"Erm...okay," she agreed, silently berating herself. All she had wanted was a quiet afternoon. Alone. _So what was she doing?_

"What do you feel like having?"

"_Oh no. No._ Ground rules first," she stated, her voice firm as she shifted away from him on the couch.

He, in spite of feeling like a worthless piece of trash—_because he didn't listen, didn't pay attention, flirted with other women_—laughed. A real laugh that made him forget about his predicament with the sour pink-haired witch.

"It's not funny," she admonished, though her lips twitched, giving her away.

"I beg to differ."

After a brief moment, when she finally realised he was invoking her words from earlier, her eyes narrowed dangerously as she regarded him.

"Whatever," she huffed, not deigning to threaten him with bodily injury.

(In a weird way, it showed she cared. She held back her usual threats because she knew he was a disaster. Not exactly 'Nicest Person of the Year' but sweet by Raven's standards.)

"So...let's hear them."

"I am not leaving this _country_. In fact, I don't want to leave this _city_. I don't want to be _carried_ or have you run at all, really. I want a nice _boring_ lunch somewhere nearby. Walking distance or _so help me._.."

He smiled, the tension in her voice revealed that his powers gave her pause. He wasn't sure he could label it fear per se, however, she was clearly nervous about the prospect of him being their mode of transportation.

His face cracked into a smile, "Afraid of going a little fast?"

"No. Realistic about your recklessness."

"I hope you know that I will remember this moment and, whenever you insult my powers again, I'll be able to say our comments just show that you're _afraid_," he said, his voice playful and more upbeat than it had been all afternoon. He was glad their dynamic was getting to be more normal. Even if he had to play with fire (and his life) to get it there.

She scoffed, "They don't scare me. And I never insult them—I only claim they're annoying. Which they are. Every gust of wind and I have to wonder if its you or not."

He smiled, recognising her particular brand of teasing in that remark.

"Fine, we'll walk," he muttered, adding, "Though I think I agree with BeastBoy—you really do take the fun out of everything."

She rolled her eyes, "You agree with BeastBoy? You do know that makes anything you say less credible."

He shrugged, "Don't care. So where to?"

"Um, you're the one with an insatiable stomach and problems to boot. You're picking."

He grinned, she really was nice under all those layers of misery and black.

"How about the new noodle bar that recently opened around here? After trying them in Japan, I love home cooked ramen noodles. And it's been too long."

"That's worrying."

"What? They're delicious. And they often come with duck or chicken and an egg or two with some spinach and—"

"Not that, Idiot."

"Then what?"

"You know the restaurants around here better than I do."

"Well, we'll have to fix that, won't we?"

She offered a small smile (the biggest one he'd seen out of her yet, though), "Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"Um...what?"

"Really? You've never seen Casablanca?"

"No...I can't deal with old black and white movies," he explained.

"Still...that's easily one of the top ten recognisable film lines. Ever."

He stuck out his tongue, "Only to those who care about boring movies."

"As opposed to watching cars and buildings blowing up every ten minutes?"

"At least there's action."

"You've never even seen Casablanca," she uttered, "Don't knock it 'til you've seen it, Kiddo."

"Kiddo?"

"Would you prefer just Kid? Kid Flash isn't exactly nickname friendly."

"There has to be a nickname?"

"Not my fault your name is a mouthful. You'd think the fastest boy alive would have a name that rolls off the tongue."

He chuckled, "Point taken. Now come on. I'm _starving_ and it's going to be _forever_ before I get lunch."

"Because we're walking?"

"Well, yeah." She could sense the unspoken '_duh' _that would fit the end of that sentence.

She shook her head, "You need a little dose of patience."

"That's like telling you that you have a dose too much of sarcasm. It may be true but it's not gonna change."

"Point taken, Kiddo."

She then vanished, returning moments later in a black t-shirt and black skinny jeans. Sitting down on the couch, she pulled on her purple ankle boots from her usual uniform.

"Will you hurry up?"

"I don't know, I kind of like dragging this out," she said, the mischievous twinkle back in her eyes, "Perhaps I should go change again? Add some make-up?"

"You have five seconds to start leaving before I pick you up and take you to Japan."

"Is that a threat?"

"Why don't you find out?"

* * *

**I know it's short. I'm thinking of making a Roses Pt 2 chapter after my exam to show their lunch interaction without eating up another whole theme (even though it probably wouldn't mention roses and would only really be an extension to this chapter). Let me know if this is something you'd like me to do!**

**Also...let me know if KF was OOC or not. I'm writing a bigger KF/Raven story (yes, I'm about to shamelessly promote a story of mine—When You Wish Upon A Star) and this is kind of like a test run of KF's personality. So...any comments or criticism on that front would be especially helpful! :) **

**~RR**


	3. Roses Pt2

**Hey everyone! Okay so I think only 2 people asked for a second part of the Roses theme but I went for it anyway. I know it's long but I wanted to show the tradition of their luncheons so that the next chapter isn't as jarring. All in the name of transition.**

**I had more dinners/lunches that were going to be added to this, but this chapter was getting too long so I'll probably add more to the next chapter as well.**

**Anyway, here you all go! Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

_**Roses Pt. 2**_

He sat across from her, leaning back into the booth's cheap red plastic. She could feel the discomfort welling up inside him as each moment passed—his aura felt twitchy, as though he were waiting for the perfect moment to talk. After a moment, he began tapping his foot rhythmically against the linoleum floor, growing more and more agitated.

Evidently, silence wasn't something he was accustomed to. Or something he knew how to break.

Normally, she wouldn't have engaged him in conversation_—_she was never known as the one to _start _talking. However, his powerful emotions surged around her_—loneliness, uncertainty, regret, and sadness. _Clearly he was back to thinking about his predicament with Jinx.

Still, to be polite, she asked, "Anything you want to talk about?"

He didn't even hesitate to launch into what was bothering him.

"Was I really a terrible boyfriend?"

She sighed, rubbing her temples. She hated that he felt this dejected—_rejected_—but his emotions were taking their toll. They were intense (no surprise there) and constantly pushed at her psyche, threatening to spill over into _her_ emotions. Which would be dangerous.

"First of all, you need to calm down before I make this whole place explode."

He sunk down further, sulking.

"I can't help it."

She frowned—was he really _that_ out of tune with his emotions? Did he even realise that his emotions seemed like multiple people's shoved together?

She took a calming breath.

"I'm sure you weren't a terrible boyfriend, Kiddo." After a pause, she added, "Besides, Jinx didn't exactly have the temperament of a hero. I'm not surprised she switched back. Why the H.I.V.E. five took her back though, well, is anyone's guess."

He frowned, indicating her attempt at humour was either lost on him or ignored.

"What do you want me to say?" she groaned, "I can tell that you tried. That you're this broken up about it says you really did want it to work. But I can't tell you why it _didn't. _I wasn't there. But at some point, you're going to have to acknowledge that you did what you could. Sometimes that's not enough, I'm sorry."

She could feel his emotions dim a bit_—_they were still quite intense, however, at least she managed to calm him down some. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to be him_—his emotions were always swarming, pulsing. _He was like a madman, jumping from one emotion to the next in no time at all. Unpredictable really was the right word for him.

He really needed to learn to calm down some. While she was always happy to help a friend in need, his unstable nature unnerved her_—set her on edge. _ He truly was a cross between a madman and a child_—erratic and unstable but also oddly loveable_.

He nodded, pulling a hand through his disheveled red hair, "I know, I _know. _I'm obsessing. It's just that..."

His voice trailed off as he swallowed, clearly uncomfortable with the next part of his statement, "...I thought we were happy. _I _was happy. I just want to know when she no longer felt the same."

He looked down—_away_—anywhere but at her piercing violet gaze. He knew it was stupid that he couldn't tell when it turned sour—_especially since understanding emotions came easy for her—_and he waited for her to tell him so.

She frowned, "She was probably unhappy not long before breaking up with you, Kiddo."

His gaze snapped up, searching her eyes for any hint of malice or teasing.

(There was none to be found.)

"When she realised she wasn't satisfied with the way things were going...well, why would she stick around? She left her team on the same whim. She's not the type of person to put up with something she realises no longer benefits her," the empath added calmly.

Before he could respond, the kind old Japanese man—garbed in a simple black samue—returned with a tray with a small tea pot, a teacup, and a coke. He put all of the items on the table slowly—after all, they were the only ones in the restaurant and he had no reason to hurry.

Pouring her herbal tea, Raven was glad to have something soothing in this mess. She wrapped her petite hands around the cheap ceramic mug, holding it like a lifeline, revelling in the warmth it brought her. It was surprising that something so small could bring her such comfort.

When he tottered off, Kid Flash returned his expectant gaze to the woman before him, eager to resume their conversation.

"So she's not one to put up a front?"

"Or wait around," she added, delicately sipping her unsweetened tea. At least part of her day was going as expected.

He nodded, staring despondently out the window. Raven opened her mouth before snapping it shut. She wished she could continue the conversation, however, she was anything but experienced at dealing with—_hurting, suffering, needy—_people. She had no idea what to say to pull him from his self-loathing, though she desperately wished that she had something insightful.

She sighed and picked at invisible lint on her black shirt while Kid Flash's eyes were glued to the horizon. This, she realised, must have been the least bit of movement she'd seen out of him. Ever. He wasn't even tapping his foot like he usually did when silence reigned_—_the absence of the staccato sound struck her harder than she'd care to admit.

Suddenly she felt a small twinge of regret at her conditions for lunch. Maybe he'd be better if he had a small run? Perhaps running to him was like meditation to her—a time to be alone, to ponder and think.

Or maybe she was reading too much into it all.

Both of them turned to the old man as he headed toward their table, this time his small tray held two large ceramic black bowls full of traditional ramen. She saw the man's understanding gaze as their eyes met—he could tell that the lunch was turning awkward. She smiled, understanding that this was a diversion and, although it was simple, she appreciated the thought.

Besides, Kid had a mind that was as fast as he was. Hopefully this would give him something new to focus on.

(And it did.)

He leaned forward, stuffing as many noodles as he could into his mouth.

"You have worse table manners than Beast Boy. And he's half animal," she commented dryly, watching as he slurped up the ends of his noodles that were hanging like a curtain over his chin.

He shrugged, "I can't sit around eating slowly and with manners. I need as many calories as soon as possible."

She tilted her head to the side, "Really? I've never seen you eat—I had no idea they were connected."

"Oh yeah," he replied in between—_large, sloppy_—bites, "I heal quickly. But to do that and not completely deteriorate, I need calories. Lots of 'em."

"I don't envy you. The food bills must be enormous."

He grinned, "I get all of my meals covered under maintenance. Plus, my heating bills are low, so it balances out."

Her lips tugged up, "A human radiator with an insatiable appetite."

"Pretty much."

She blinked, when had he finished?

"One sec, okay?" he said quickly before dashing off to find the old gentleman.

Milliseconds later, he was back before her as though he had never left. Indeed, had he not said anything, she could almost believe that it was her mind playing tricks on her.

Turning her attention back to her unfinished bowl, she took another delicate bite, careful to not let the noodles slip between the red chopsticks. It still took her a lot of focus (despite her time in Japan), however, she could manage with the utensils now. Better than before, anyway.

It seemed he was thinking the same thing too.

"Where'd you learn how to use chopsticks?" he asked, seemingly in better spirits than before. Still, if she knew anything, the break-up with Jinx still stretched like a shadow across his mind. As it would for some time.

"Tokyo," she replied, before taking another small bite.

She had no idea if he was purposefully pushing the issue with Jinx away for now or if his attention was this easy to divert but, either way, she was glad for the change in topic. Grateful, even.

"You've been to Japan?" he asked incredulously.

"You're not the only person who's ever travelled, Kiddo," she remarked, her thin mouth twisting into a smirk. After a moment, she added, "We went about a year ago. Duty called. It was then that we fought Broshogun."

"Ohhhh," he said, realisation dawning on his face, "Beast Boy mentioned that. It was in the building of his favourite manga publishing house, right?"

She nodded, "Yes."

"Were you guys on a mission the whole time then?"

She smiled softly at the memory, "No. Starfire managed to convince Robin to let us all stay an extra week to enjoy our first vacation."

"How'd you spend yours?"

"Getting lost—it's the best way to find new places. I also tried to find something readable and ended up becoming the mascot of a brand of bubble gum."

"Wow...I don't know what I was expecting, but that wasn't it. Apart from the reading, that is," he said with a chuckle.

After a moment of scrutinising her—much to her discomfort, though she hoped that didn't show—he added, "I have a feeling that I'll never really know what to expect from you, though."

The words hung in the air between them as she frantically searched for a response—_anything_— to say to that. Thankfully, she was spared from answering as the old man returned with three bowls of ramen, dumplings, edamame, a bowl of fried rice and California rolls.

"I've heard about your bottomless stomach," she began, trying not to stare at the heaps of food being piled before the young man before her, "But this is something else. No amount of stories could've prepared me for this."

"Why do you think at every Titans party we always order like fifty pizzas?" he teased.

She shrugged, "I never bothered to take an inventory of who ate what."

He grinned as she struggled to take another bite.

"Guess what?"

"Hnmh?" she asked through the noodles she was chewing.

"I bet I can finish all of this before you're done."

He was grinning, regaining some of his lightheartedness. There was fire once again in those eyes. She sighed, knowing that she would look like a complete fool. Still, it was worth it.

"Alright, let's go."

She abandoned her manners and began to eat much like he did—spilling everywhere and shovelling loads of food in her mouth. But, damn, he downright _inhaled _his food.

True to his word, he was finished before she was.

(Though she wasn't that far behind.)

Seeing their plates empty, the man brought out a brown paper bag full of _more _food—Kid Flash merely gave a sheepish smile—and the bill, setting those on the table. He then began to clear the table, taking most of the plates and bowls with him in one trip.

Lunging for the bill, she was surprised that she got ahold of it first.

(He must not have expected her to try and pay.)

"Raven, you don't have to pay for me. I think I ate like ten times what you did, anyway," he explained, extending his hand out for the bill.

"Sorry, but it's not my policy to make my depressed friends pay for their meals."

"The government takes care of my food, though."

"It's not like the government doesn't give us any money," she retorted, neglecting to mention that this was coming out of her saved stipend.

"But—"

"Just accept it," she stated firmly, her voice washing over his.

"Fine, fine. But know that I'll get you back."

* * *

He did get her back too. They had gone on several other lunch runs around Jump city, trying nearly every genre of food and on almost every trip, he covered the bill claiming the government wouldn't notice the difference between what he ate and one extra meal.

Plus, she figured he was paying because he also wanted to guilt her into finally letting actually running somewhere for dinner.

(Though she had yet to acquiesce.)

* * *

"Banoffee pie, it's delicious. One of my favourite desserts."

"Ban-off-ee?" she repeated slowly, her mouth struggling to shape itself around the foreign word.

"Banana and toffee. Banoffee."

"I see. That's nice."

"Yup. Like I said, if it's well made, it's easily one of my favourites."

"I'm sensing a but here..."

He smiled. As always, she was spot on in her assumption.

"But...You can only really get it in the United Kingdom."

She sighed, "Of course."

"What does that mean?"

Her lips pulled into a delicate—_cute_—frown as she contemplated her next words.

"That means I'm trusting you. _T__his. One. Time_. To be our transport. If I sense any reckless endangerment, I will teleport home and probably have to sleep for a week—leaving Robin pissed at you."

Her words crashed into him like a tidal wave_—__I'm trusting you. _It gave him both a feeling of pride and fear_—_pride because he'd earned her elusive trust and fear because he didn't want to mess it up. He could feel the weight of responsibility from those three words_—almost suffocating in their heaviness__—_but also the desire to live up to their expectations._  
_

"No reckless running, I promise. Scouts honour," he said, holding his palm up in a pledge-like gesture.

"We're you_ even_ a scout?" she playfully asked.

His ears burned a bright red, "Um, yep."

She arched a slender brow, "Well this I have to hear."

"Over dinner," he pushed, hoping against all odds that she would forget.

(Though he knew she wouldn't.)

She grunted, her mood turning sour at the thought of relying on his good judgement to get them to the United Kingdom, "Well get us there, Mr. Eagle."

"Yeah, yeah. Let me put my shoes on."

"So why did you do Boy Scouts? Clearly it wasn't your idea," she pressed.

"Barry told me that I needed to learn survival skills. I just think he took pleasure in torturing me. I remember whining that Grayson-"

He stopped, realising his mistake. She considered letting him stand there—_doe eyed, frozen with one shoe on and the other in hand_—a bit longer but instead said, "Relax, I know."

"You know?" He sputtered, "But he never tells anyone. _I_ only found out by mistake!"

She gave him a small smile, "I'm an empath."

"So you can ferret out everyone's secret identities?" he asked, his voice calm but for the razor sharp edge that was lurking underneath the statement.

"No. It's a bit more complicated than that," she muttered, frowning at the—_distrust? resent?—_in his voice.

"What happened?"

"I'm not done interrogating you about Boy Scouts yet," she stated lightly—it was true and she didn't want to go into the details of her bond with Robin. Not after the darkness that lurked in his voice moments before.

He picked her up bridal style before explaining, "I said over dinner, didn't I?"

He then took off before she could protest. The run, not that she could tell, was slower than usual so that he could avoid the stray objects—_the ice patches, the kids sledding_—with practiced ease and make her feel safe. After a few moments, they were in Leicester Square, London.

He frowned, noticing her shivering against the wind and the cold from his run. (Oops.)

In an effort to distract her—and to keep him from noticing her freezing—he called eagerly, "Come on! The pub isn't too far from here."

He then took her gloved hand and dragged her down Charing's Cross Road until they reached the Silver Stag. The pub was nearly full. The clients were mainly older and heavy, as though they had given up climbing the promotion ladder at their jobs—these men just seemed eager to spend their nights with a pint and some mates after a hard day's work.

"These pubs are always the best," he informed, spotting an empty wooden table and rushing toward it. Now that they had found seats, Raven allowed herself a moment to marvel at the old world feel of the pub. It was nearly all a dark cherry wood. The floors, the bar area, the tables and chairs were all done from the same wood. The wood also climbed halfway up the walls, burgundy paint connected the panels to the ceiling, which also had dark, wooden detail at the edges. The cherry wood and the wine coloured walls gave the pub a warm, quaint feel.

"So... Care to finish your story?" she asked as she sat down.

He shrugged, "I was _so_ mad 'cos Grayson didn't have to go. But Barry said that he had the Bats and that it'd be good for me to learn with kids my own age."

"And?" she prompted.

"It was _terrible_. We had to go on hiking trips and white water rafting. The rafting was fun, actually, it was just the days surrounding it that we had to live pretending as though modern technology didn't exist that took the fun out of it. We also had to learn to tie knots and bandages and stuff."

"I thought you all sold cookies," she offered, "Delicious ones at that."

He smiled trying to picture which ones were her favourites, "Those are mainly the girls. They're generally not as...outdoorsy."

"Sounds like you would've liked them better."

"Probably. Anyway, it was a painful process but now I'm done with it."

"Can you ever be done with scouts?"

"The way they talk...I don't think so. It's like a life long cult."

"Well congrats on your elite membership, then," she said with a wry smile.

He burst out with an unexpected boisterous laugh, "Yay me."

Her smile grew as she recognised his humour. He smiled, noting that she was smiling more—real smiles instead of the cracked half ones she used to. And, for once, he felt comfortable around her—not like he was stepping on eggshells. He couldn't pinpoint when their dinners became relaxed, however, he liked the change.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, noticing his sudden quietness.

"Just that...you're not as big of a bitch as I had expected."

"Thanks?"

"What I mean is..." he began, realising the need to back-pedal quickly, "Just that...I dunno...when I first met you, you seemed mean. You were like a porcupine—anything I said, you'd bristle. Now I just realise that...well, you were just being you."

He cringed. That wasn't at all what he meant to say.

"All I mean is that—" he began, the words tumbling out, "I misinterpreted you. I thought your sarcasm was rudeness. You were different and I chalked it up to you being intently mean instead of being your usual funny self."

But that was still inadequate. He had so much more he wanted to say. _That we're close enough that I finally notice your tells. That I can see when you're happy by the quick, barely-there smiles. Or when you're teasing the way you're eyes burn with a mischievous, daring twinkle. That I didn't know how to read you before, how to interpret your subtle expressions._

But all of this seemed corny to say. So, as usual, he didn't.

She smiled, the glint in her eye telling him that she was, in fact, amused at this admission, "You're not the first to say that. But thank-you. I suppose this means we're friends now."

He jolted, looking into her endless pools of violet, "I'd say I think so too, but what prompted this?"

"Well, when people know me well enough to pick up on my...subtleties...it means that we've passed the superficial layer of prejudice and assumption. That you know me well enough to know that I'm not _entirely _emotionless, I guess. Like my other friends. So I now count you among them."

He grinned, "I count you among mine too."

His interest may have been sparked by that game of chess so long ago, but their friendship...well, that started with roses.

* * *

It wasn't until later that night, well after dinner, that he remembered the one thing that had been tugging at his mind all night, despite the light atmosphere.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

_How did she find out about Robin's secret identity?_

_And why didn't she want to tell him?_

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

* * *

**Erm yeah. There it is. I know I said that it wouldn't necessarily mention roses, however, since it was a part of the roses chapter, I did want to connect it back somehow. Hope it's not too much of a stretch. **

**Let me know what you think!**

**~RR**


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